


Higher

by WhoknewZeus



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Romance, it's sort of fluff, just read it if you feel like it, lots of sort of, some sort of smut, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:19:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6975211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoknewZeus/pseuds/WhoknewZeus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas worked peacefully as the bartender to one of the famous gay bars in town -- The Glade. He adjusted to a routine but his night shifts begin to take a toll once a certain Asian male comes into the picture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OmegaJay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmegaJay/gifts).



> That's right! I made this after updating my story XD also bc I wanted to torture ya buddy. This was made from shits and giggles while listening to Higher by Rihanna

“There he goes,” Thomas sighed, tapping his fingertips on the surface of his table in boredom. Thomas thought he was beginning to go crazy because he should not be paying too much attention to another good-looking customer. No matter how much they would often offer to buy him a drink.

Thomas worked the nightshift as a bartender at a famous gay bar -- The Glade. It was still open to everyone to sit down and have a shot here and there, but an influx of gay people usually came to visit it. The owner never minded it because it brought plenty of business and reputation. Frankly, Thomas could care less about what people were doing at the bar.

Thomas and his slightly long brown hair had to keep up his job in order to live at the bare minimum of the standard of living. As long as he could get through the month was all he truly needed. He made his own reputation at Glade after working there for six months already -- the emotionless and plain man.

It was charm to the males at the bar, though. They liked how smooth and nonchalant Thomas always looked when he was shaking or stirring someone’s drink. Thomas had previous girlfriends before, and he never wanted nor desired men the same way he felt towards females. However, there were always guys that he could honestly point out to be beautiful.

Then an Asian male in an formal suit had frequently visited and interrupted the norm that Thomas was adjusted to.

A name was never heard of by Thomas of the handsome man that came into the Glade to order the usual glass of water. On certain nights, Thomas would be granted permission to shake him an alcoholic beverage; Grey Goose, Jack Daniel’s whiskey, or even tequila were the various choices that the Asian male chose. Thomas never spared a smile, but his eyes monitored the creases on the Asian’s face as a polite tone would be heard.

On nights as the one that Thomas was watching indifferently, the Asian customer would get _buzzed_ beyond belief. Maybe it was a way to get Thomas to smile for once at work because the way the formal Asian would rant at the corner at the bar about “how there aren’t enough girls in here!”

It came to Thomas’s attention that he had never had to observe the Asian male, but the way that man stood out among the crowds of guys wearing very casual clothing was far too easy to spot. Thomas assumed he must had been one of those straight guys by the way he complained about the lack of females in Glade and how he did little interaction with any guy there.

“Look, huh,” a customer was speaking in a polite manner, “what’s your name again?”

Thomas’s ears perked up as he tried to look like he was trying to clean the dry shot glasses. A voice answered to the question that Thomas knew who it belonged to. “Minn-no!”

“Yeah, that.” The customer sat uncomfortably in their chair as Minho was practically molesting them because of how touchy-feely he was feeling. “I have to go drench my asshole or something, see you ‘round.”

Thomas chuckled at how obvious the customer was at trying to get out the situation of being seated to, now with a name, _Minho_. With careful footsteps, Thomas approached Minho and talked audible over the pop music playing, “Try not to scare away all the customers or I may have to call the police to escort you.”

A loose neck-tie was draped over Minho’s shoulders, his buttons for his shirt and vest were undone by an unnecessary amount, and alcohol omitted strongly from his breath. “Wo arr you gaaen?”

Faking a smiling, the brunet responded, “My name is Thomas, and I’m the bartender here.”

“Oh,” Minho nodded dumbly, “Gettem anodah drink, yea?”

“Sorry, you’re drunk as Rihanna at a good party,” Thomas responded, “so no.”

A moment passed and Minho knocked out on the surface of the counter. He snored peacefully and the bar was slowly shutting down. A blond male came over in a simple style and introduced himself to Thomas. “Hi, Newt here.”

Thomas looked baffled. “Your name’s Newt? Like the--”

“Yeah, yeah, mate, f’ck off.”

Thomas’s eyes went wide because he never thought a kid that could possibly be at the bar illegally was cursing at him. The blond male got a loud whistle from somebody at the door, who was waiting for him. Thomas could easily read the situation. “You want me to watch this guy, huh?”

Newt blushed, nodding his head. He leaned forward and whispered, “I’d been tryin’ to git in bed with t’at guy for the longest time. Little Min over here had been dragged by me almost every time I come here.”

Thomas sighed. “No.”  
“C’mon, mate! Don’t be a shank!” The British man voiced.

Thomas could barely comprehend modern slang, so he did not even try to understand British slang. Or whatever slang it was that the man that was named after a lizard was saying. Thomas continued making sure all the alcohol on the shelves were neatly in place before he had to finish cleaning and drying all the glasses. Newt sneakily wrote something on a paper napkin and made a run for the door with a gorgeous black male.

After Thomas had noticed the action, he read the napkin and nearly wanted to rip it. He walked impatiently over to the sleeping Asian and began slapping him with the piece of soft paper. “Hey, hey, hey! Wake the fuck up, pal!”

“Huh?” Minho groaned, head looking up from the counter.

“Your lizard friend left this note to call his number if anything happened. Look, there’s even his number at the bottom just in case you forgot,” Thomas released his exasperation towards Minho.

“Oh, ow, Newt.”

“Yeah, that fig newton bar,” Thomas left the napkin for Minho to inspect. “Just don’t throw up on the counter and go take care of yourself, shithead.”

Minho looked like he was already in the hung-over stage, and he probably was going to vomit despite Thomas instructing him to not do so. The brunet continued to clean cups before he noticed the Asian struggling to get up. It was painful to watch somebody good-looking failing to get home on their home. Thomas was about to offer his assistance but it seemed that Minho was perfectly capable of walking.

Until he began losing his balance and tripping over a bunch of stacks chairs along the way. Thomas cursed in his head as he had more work to do than necessary. He was really going to make that Nelly guy pay. After putting away the cleaned glasses, Thomas walked over to Minho and helped the Asian on his feet. Thomas patted away any dust that could have gotten on the suit, then he plainly said, “Do you know where you live? I’ll take you home.”

“Uh, wherr?” Minho slurred.

Thomas felt a migraine growing. “I’ll just take you to my place.”

* * *

It was not like it was special or anything. It was not like Thomas’s apartment was made of gold bricks that led to Oz. It was well-kept at a minimum because no one told Thomas what to do with his apartment. He had enough necessities for rudimentary living such as instant coffee blend and junk food. He could cook too, but it was only if he wanted to spend the time to do all the steps to prepare a proper meal.

He let Minho have the couch at the time being until he could get into contact with the blond that ran off and ditched his own friend at the bar. Thomas could not believe that babyface could do something so indecent and immature to his people. What a crude fellow.

It was odd to have someone in his home other than himself or his visiting parents from time to time. Fixing the area around the couch to at least give Minho the impression that the place was not a place where a giant crab lived.

When Thomas finished, he was slowly getting antsy while standing still because he unsure if something further should have been done. Minho was tossing a little on the couch while repeating, “Hot.”

Thomas shrugged since it seemed harmless to strip somebody if they looked like they needed it. It was still too new to Thomas, but he smiled at how lost Minho’s voice could sound. Not wanting to go to the extremes, the brunet only unbuttoned the shirt until it was down to the last four. Seeing the exposed chest with his own eyes, Thomas was impressed on how built Minho was underneath the tight suit.

Thomas’s fingertips lingered around at the bare skin for a quick moment as he tried to get up to go to his own bedroom. Suddenly, Minho woke up and held onto the escaping fingers swiftly before pulling them forcefully.

Thomas twisted, turned, and fell into Minho’s chest. The Asian did not speak and immediately dipped his head into Thomas’s personal space and stole his lips. It was like an explosion occurred in the brunet’s heart because something dormant awoken. He wanted to push the male down and punch him in the nose, but the tongue action was getting nice and sloppy. It was too enticing to separate himself from.

A strong taste of leftover whiskey and the coke soda lingering on the palettes of Minho’s tongue. It was beginning to intoxicate Thomas that he swore he never felt as high in the sky as he did in the moment of sharing a heavy kiss with a practical stranger.

It was too wrong that everything was happening due to somebody’s drunkenness. Thomas had to be mature and step away from the scene. He mustered all his strength to be able to detach his lips from the lustful man in front of him. Thomas shook his head as he watched Minho go peacefully back to sleep.

The fluttering heart was still apparent, but Thomas would rather keep that to himself. He could not easily let himself be swept away by such vulgar moves, especially from a guy that he was not interested in. Thomas was straight! He knew he was, and it was why he could work at the Glade without sleeping with any of the customers.

Although with enough drinks, he would not mind bending his sexuality a little to the right guy with the right amount of money offered as well. But Minho was not buying Thomas any drinks nor was Thomas drunk enough to be feeling pretty with himself to be touched by others.

A fire was lit in Thomas’s chest, and he wanted to blow the candle dim. There were too many new feelings and consequences that could come to Thomas if he kept involving himself with someone like Minho.

The bartender-worker went off to the bedroom, but not without turning off the lights in the living room where the couch was. At least Thomas wanted to look at the gracefulness that Minho was bathing in as he slumbered undisturbed. It would be too much to say in the morning, but Thomas was having a way too long of a night.


	2. Pardon Me if I'm Impolie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's right. There's more to this bc somebody on Twitter all up in my grill. He cool, he gucci tho.

Thomas woke up and left his bedroom to check on his drunken guest. Upon entering the living room, there was nobody there but the couch area seemed a little neat. Minho must had been embarrassed to see that he was taken to a stranger's house. It was not like Minho got laid, Thomas would not allow that to happen so easily. He was not easy going with partners especially from the male side. 

"Inevitable," Thomas sighed, collapsing over the couch. Letting the fabric hold his cheek, he wondered why there was a disappointing feeling in his chest.

No matter.  Thomas was an individual man, and he would not let his life be changed instantly. He liked being alone, anyway. But, for now, he wanted to be motionless and let time pass by until he felt it was long enough for him to begin moving again.

  
  


It was another night at the Glade, and the men were still drinking up until they were surely wasted. The music could not be heard in comparison to all the chatter all around the bar. It was the same as always at the bar, though. The same people trying to find a hook-up with the same tactic of buying each other strong alcohol. Thomas was looking at one guy play around with someone's drink by slipping a drug in there, and Thomas immediately called the police to handle the situation. He also made sure the guy would not escape by calling him out in public that he was trying to drug someone's drink.

 

They were arrested quickly, and the bar went on as usual. It was not like Thomas intentionally trying to do something good to make himself feel like a better human being. He did it because it was wrong to commit that type of crime, and all criminals should be punished accordingly. It was how the world  _ should _ work.

 

Although, Thomas's view was not always shared with everyone, but the brunet shrugged because it was something far beyond his control. With eyes scoping for something subconsciously, he spotted the lizard man. The blond fellow with the baby-like face was conversing with the same black male from the last time in the corner near the bathroom. Thomas may or may not have wanted to intervene and ask if the lizard man's friend was okay that morning.

 

Maybe it was too much too ask. It was not in his place to ask, but Thomas was still compelled to do so. Distracted by the train rolling in his head, Thomas did not hear the customer in front of him trying to order another drink of scotch. "Sorry."

 

Minho entered the Glade cautiously, unaware if he was going to be seen by either his best friend Newt or the bartender that kindly allowed him to crash at their apartment. He still wore his work suit because he recently got off of his office job. The Asian remembered the days he would sit in front of the TV and passively listened to the advertiser of complaining of a lame old office job, and he could see the appeal to the commercial because he was in that position now. He honestly wanted to work as a musician, but he was too afraid of economic stability not letting him live the life he wanted.

 

He saw no open seats by all the tables, and the only available seating were at the few spots by the bar. The real reason Minho came back was to thank the bartender, but he was unsure of how to approach the matter with a complete stranger. Taking his chances, he sat on the stool directly in front of the bartender. A fleeting heart taking a ride on the wind of fate. The outcome was about to play itself in Minho's first words, "H-How are, uh, hi?"

 

Tricky fellow, Thomas thought. Thinking of how to respond, Thomas went with, "What would you like to drink?"

 

It was easily awkward in the atmosphere of their conversation, but Minho had a long day at work and was fed up of trying to hide his true thoughts. "Hey, Mr, huh," he quickly looked at the nametag on the bartender's right breast, "Thomas. I just wanted to thank you for your services. I am grateful for people like you."

 

"Okay," Thomas dully retorted. His lifeless eyes and plain smile made Minho feel somewhat at comfort because at least the bartender did not seem affected by the awkward words. Thomas also added, "You snore very loud by the way."

 

There it was. The arrow of embarrassment piercing through Minho's uncaged heart. His smile frowned in one swift transition before he planted his right cheek of his face on the counter. "One shot of vodka."

 

"Coming up, sir." Thomas looked behind him to find the desired bottle on the alcohol shelf. He proceeded to pull out a shot glass and poured his customer the drink they ordered. “Your shot of vodka.”

 

Minho lazily took it and downed the clear burning liquid. His conscious was still hanging on, but his anxiety was still gripping his heart. Regret not being present in Minho’s tone, he requested for another drink. 

 

Then another. 

 

And another.

 

At some point, Minho was attempting to drink more, but Thomas began switching Minho’s drinks with water instead. However, the drunk Asian was still high off the alcohol; the least Thomas could do was try to sober up the noir until the bar closed. 

 

Minho’s stupidity came best when drunk, and it was something Thomas did not want to deal with, but he also did not mind spending a little more time trying to get into the Asian’s head. As Thomas continued to serve drinks to all the customers, he would lend his ear over to Minho that was ranting on and on about his life.

 

“Yu wood nevah gess hao bad I feellt wen I leh your, uh, houz?” Minho was slurring again. Something that was not unfamiliar to Thomas.

 

The brunet answered, “Apartment. It’s only an apartment.”

 

“Sameh thun.” Minho was rocking his head in small circles, almost as if he wanted to fall over and pass out. “Hot az fuck in h’re.”

 

Thomas shook his head as he was tempted to give himself a shot of something strong because when Minho reached that part of his drunkenness, it meant stripping was going to be involved. Thomas was right about his thoughts when he saw Minho trying desperately to loosen his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. 

 

Although the bar had no strict regulations on stripping as long as nobody got stark nude. It was fine. Well, it was until Thomas was completely in a dazed by the way Minho would never lose eye contact as the Asian stripped. It was like a little tease to the bartender.

 

Normally, it was nothing to be appealed by, but Thomas was slowly finding himself staring for over four seconds into Minho’s fingers twisting and playing with the buttons on his white shirt. Minho was relentless on the request for more drinks, and Thomas also did not stop serving him water each time.

 

It only took three hours before Minho’s buzz was dying down. The bar closed an hour ago, but Thomas was keeping it open for a certain customer. “How you feeling?”

 

Minho smiled genuinely. “Okay.”

 

Thomas nodded his head, and he leaned over with his elbows on the counter. “Okay.”

 

Wondering if he was capable of going home on his own, Minho tried to get off of the stool before his strength faltered. He laughed and returned to the stool. “I guess I can’t go anywhere too crazy yet.”

 

Thomas kept a straight face as he responded, “Do you want to crash at my place again?”

 

Minho’s cheeks blushed, for he understood that the brunet probably did not have high standards on friends if he was going to allow a complete stranger sleep over again. Regardless, he happily accepted the offer. “Yes, please.”

 

Thomas proceeded to put away the last dry glass before he went to the employees only room. He was only checking to see if everything was properly locked away or turned off. Once Thomas finished, he returned to get Minho on his shoulder and walked out of the bar, then he locked the front doors to prevent any thieves from coming in.

 

Thomas luckily lived close enough to the bar that he did not have to carry an older Asian male on his shoulder for an overextended amount of time. Minho was quiet on the whole journey and so was Thomas. 

 

But a yearning was being lit in Minho’s heart. He wanted to talk about all sorts of topics with the brunet, and he was unsure if he would be considered creepy for trying to make their relationship enter another layer of depth. 

 

The door to the brunet’s apartment opened, and the two came through shaky before falling upon the couch that was nearby. Minho was on top of Thomas, but the brunet’s eyes were trying divert contact despite his face directed towards Minho.

 

It was odd that Thomas did little to push him off, and Minho was not motivated to get off either. They stayed like that for a small moment in time, frozen in the never-motionless world. Minho’s tie slipped off onto Thomas’s uniform, and the Asian’s breathing was tickling the brunet’s neck.

 

“How long must we stay like this?” Thomas could not help but break the ice.

 

“O-Oh right,” Minho stammered, attempting to get off. 

 

Thomas sat there still, reevaluating his ideas of what was to become of him and Minho. They were nowhere near being close friends, and they were only acquaintances at the bar. He was only the bartender and Minho was the customer. 

 

Why would Thomas let a stranger like him stay over so easily? He could have let any other drunken fool sleep over if that were the case. So why was Minho different?

 

Their proximity was growing like a flower in soil, and it was about time that Thomas picked out all the petals before cutting the stem. “Why you?”

 

“Pardon me?” Minho retorted, fixing up his shirt’s buttons to cover up his chest.

 

Thomas stayed unmoved from the earlier position as he spoke, “Why are you the only person I can effortlessly let in this apartment?”

 

Minho did not know the answer to that, but he peeked over at Thomas to see that the brunet was undoing the buttons to the uniform’s vest. As if he was hypnotized by Thomas’s hands like the brunet was conducting a choir chorus. 

 

Thomas remembered the alcoholic kiss they shared together, and his body was beginning to awaken in heat. It was like a hot oil was being spilt all over his pale skin, and for some reason he wanted to feel it again.

 

Minho fadely was remembering kissing Thomas. It was the worse timing because he was catching something in his chest that was unwanted. His own cheeks were burning inside, and he wanted to stop talking altogether.

 

Thomas got up and pulled out a whiskey bottle from the cabinet in the kitchen. He placed the glass container on the coffee table in front of the couch, and he looked Minho in the eyes. “Let’s pour a drink together.”

 

Something Thomas never told anyone was that he had an outrageously high tolerance for alcohol, and he was only lightly hammered while Minho was past of recovery. The two were drinking for an hour together, and Minho was slurring words all over together.

 

Thomas had more things to say when he had a few drinks dancing in his blood. “So why’re you at a gay bar most of the time?”

 

Minho was very close to Thomas on the couch. He was sliding his finger on the creases of Thomas’s white shirt. “I waz der fr Newt.”

 

“Ah, that Brit,” Thomas plainly stated, gulping another swig from the almost empty bottle. “Are you even gay?”

 

“Nah,” Minho shook his head playfully, “are you?”

 

“Maybe bisexual.” Thomas retorted, putting the bottle down on the table and laid back into the couch.

 

“Why you say dat?” Minho was beginning to get inquisitive.

 

Thomas looked over at drunk and innocent Minho before closing the space between them. He recklessly kissed the Asian as an answer, and the brunet was expecting to be rejected as soon as possible.

 

However, Minho accepted the offer and began moving in accordance to Thomas’s movement. Minho did little to fight off Thomas from mounting him.Their hands carelessly cupping each other’s cheeks, preventing the both of them from getting away. 

 

Inundating the air with a scent of pine, whiskey, and lust, Minho was almost at a limit at what he could take with his body. The erection in his pants were practically begging to be freed, and he was sure that Thomas had a boner as well. 

 

“Tell me,” Thomas panted between their kisses. “Why do you seem so attractive to me even when I was sober?”

 

“I duh,” Minho endeavored the sloppy kissing to be to reply, “know. Mayba we duh needa pu a labah on dis.”

 

Thomas agreed without another word. He got off of Minho with his hand in the Asian’s hand, and the brunet guided them to the bedroom. Thomas got off the lube and condom inside of the drawer next to his bed. “Safety first.”

 

Minho gulped down a lump in his throat until he realized the lump was actually vomit trying to escape, then he rushed to the nearest bathroom to puke out his bowels. Thomas could honestly say what a turn-off that was, but he understood that drunk sex was not meant for those not entirely drunk.

 

On the other hand, Minho still tried to kiss and get on with Thomas, but the mood was killed once the puke was splashing in his toilet. Thomas took it upon him to put the Asian on the bed and let him cuddle up with the brunet until they fell asleep.

 

“How disappointing,” Thomas looked lovingly at the sleeping face of Minho. 

 

***

 

In the morning, Thomas woke up expecting the Asian to had left with either a note or without a sign. It was not like he cared either way, for Thomas could always say it was a drunk mistake if Minho tried to apologize. 

 

Good thing Thomas was not entirely drunk because his headache was not murdering his brain as much as it should have. There was still something holding him down to the bed, though. Thomas turned around and saw Minho still in his possession.

 

Thomas froze on the spot. “Oh my god.”

 

Minho moved by a little before his eyes fluttered open, and he saw Thomas’s shocked face. “Oh, what’s up?”

 

“Uh, I, there’s, you see,” Thomas was actually freaking out. He never had to deal with such an awkward situation before. 

 

Minho chuckled, still trying to keep his arms locked on Thomas’s sides. “You’re actually cute in the morning.”

 

“Thanks?”

 

“I still  _ want  _ you when I’m sober,” Minho stated, pressing closer to what was left of Thomas’s personal space, “and I’m pretty sure you still want me to finish last night.”

 

“Uhhhh,” Thomas’s head was beginning to get in a hot haze.

 

It was not like Minho was still drunk, for he had his head cleared that all the times he was drunk or was at the bar. He always noticed the bartender looking observingly in his direction each time. The Asian may have wanted to get more of the bartender’s attention each time. At one point, Minho thought what could he possibly do to get to taste the lips on that guy.

 

The sexuality of Minho was something he never saw to label yet. You could call him ambiguous about himself. At that moment in bed with Thomas, Minho knew he wanted that brunet more than a box of chocolates. And his excellent memory was a great trait because he could always recall what he did when he got drunk. 

 

Thomas did not need to know of that information yet because Minho had a few tricks he wanted to try. The Asian shifted positions so he could hold down Thomas to the bed. Using one arm to search for something in the drawer next to the bed, he pulled out the  _ necessities _ . 

 

Thomas was surprised at what was shown to him. “Ho-How did you—” 

 

“Just go with it, shuck-face,” Minho snickered.

 

“Shuck-face?”

 

“God,” Minho sighed, leaning down to shut Thomas’s bewilderment with his lips. 

 

Clothes were found motionless on the ground while an half-empty bottle of lube was on one of their shirts. Condom wrappers were almost scattered on the bed as the bed frame was shaking. Minho was holding down Thomas’s legs as the Asian tried to continue thrusting into the brunet’s moist hole.

 

“I, I, I feel like, like my legs are gonna come off!” Thomas was complaining as his nipples were being touched by Minho’s tongue.

 

“Uh huh,” Minho hummed carelessly, letting his the length of cock insert inside of the warm wet backside. “You know, this sounds like mac n’ cheese being made.”

 

“Nooo!” Thomas yelped, biting down on his forearm, “I love that. Fuck you!”

 

“Already are,” Minho replied, smirking as if he was proud of himself.

 

Minho pulled out and took off the plastic on his cock before quickly jerking himself off and releasing ropes of his orgasm over Thomas’s exposed front. It was like watching golden honey pour hastily onto a freshly-made biscuit. 

 

Thomas’s sweat infused with Minho’s cum, and made the brunet’s entire body glow in a certain shine. The bartender had to catch his breath before he looked at Minho’s lustful grin and twitching dick giving him an indication that they were about to enter another round of sex.  

 

He could happily get used to this…    
  



End file.
